


Desire

by Angelike



Category: Fushigi Yuugi
Genre: 1.21 - To Protect You, Episode Related, F/M, One Shot, Short Story
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2004-12-22
Updated: 2004-12-22
Packaged: 2017-10-02 13:13:59
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,467
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Angelike/pseuds/Angelike
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>What if Miaka had given in to Hotohori's love after he rescued her from her attempt to drown herself?</p>
            </blockquote>





	Desire

Burning. She was burning.

A voice in the back of her mind—the voice of reason—whispered that she was wrong to have let things progress so far as they had and she really _must_ put a stop to this forbidden dance before it was too late, but she simply couldn't bring herself to heed the advice. She was already too far gone. With every soft caress of his hands, roughened by countless years of training to become the unmatched warrior he was, she fell a little farther under his spell. With every teasing brush of his lips against her heated flesh, she lost a little more of herself to the man who had once pledged his life and love to a silly little girl who had been too blind to see just what he was offering.

She didn't feel like a silly little girl now.

His name flowed from her lips in a breathless moan, a plea for something her fever-clouded mind couldn't quite put a name to. She felt, rather than heard, his amusement in the slight trembling of his body as he chuckled into the crook of her neck. "Patience, my love. Patience."

Patience? It was he who had always been the patient one, not she! It was he who had stood by her always, even as she found solace in the arms of another man, and waited without complaint for a time that may have never came—a time in which she would be ready to accept his love.

She was more than ready to accept his attentions now; the question was, did she desire his heart as well? Was this all just physical lust? She wanted him—there was no use in denying it. Somehow, over the course of the past few months, he had managed to fan that single spark of desire she had thought sealed safely away forever into a flame that would not be contained. That flame was fast becoming something unstoppable and uncontrollable—a raging inferno she feared would consume her from the inside out.

But did she love him?

He must have sensed her inner confusion, because he had ceased his ministrations and was now hovered above her, arms placed strategically on either side of her head, unbound tresses flowing to form a curtain about them, leaving them face-to-face in their own little world. Even in the dim light of her bedside candle, she could see the question in his eyes. "Miaka?"

Here it was: the moment of truth. If she pushed him away now, she would essentially be pushing him away forever. If she consented to continue, however, her course through life would be forever altered. There would be no turning back. Once he had her, he would never let her go.

Why couldn't she bring herself to think of belonging to the beautiful young emperor for all eternity as a bad thing? She had Tamahome, didn't she? She loved that stubborn, endearing warrior, didn't she?

Didn't she?

She had certainly thought she did. Suddenly, she wasn't so sure. Ever since Tamahome had given himself over to Kuto and left them to assemble the last of the Suzaku warriors on their own, she had come to see Hotohori in a whole new light—especially after Tamahome's betrayal. His heart was so pure and true that she could not help but be drawn to him. He was strong where she was weak. He was generous where she was selfish. He was wise where she was ignorant. He was light where she was dark. He was everything she was not. So how could she possibly love him?

How could he possibly love her? How could anyone love her, as flawed as she was? She had thought Tamahome had, but how strong was a love so easily forgotten? Would Hotohori forget her too? Would he grow bored with her once he realized that she was not the perfect vision of the priestess he had imagined he would be? Would he leave her like Tamahome had, broken and helpless to grief, once he found someone better?

A lone tear, crystalline and clear, trickled down her cheek as her thoughts took a drastic turn, the warmth of his body pressed against hers suddenly her only comfort—a comfort she was suddenly sure she would soon be deprived of. The thought left her desolate and without hope, the sobs she had thus far managed to suppress breaking free without warning.

Oh, Suzaku! She _did_ love him, didn't she?

"Miaka! Miaka, what is the matter!" His voice was panicked and full of alarm, his eyes wide with worry and he sought to console her. "Please don't cry. I'm sorry if I've upset you. Please, my love. Please, tell me what you want me to do!"

Her response was choked with emotion, insecurity and torment plain to see: "Do you love me, Hotohori? Really? Or is it the Priestess of Suzaku of your dreams that you want? Because I can never be her. I'm not perfect. I will never be perfect. I will never be worthy of you."

He grimaced at these words, stricken with horror as he realized his error. His gentle hands moved to trace the curves of her face before grasping her chin with one hand and tilting her head up so as to capture her tearful gaze with his own fierce glare. "Don't you dare say such things," he commanded forcefully. "Don't you dare demean yourself. You are more than worthy of me as you are, and I do love _you_, and not in spite of your faults, either, but because of them." A smile played across his lips, then, and she felt her sobs begin to reside. His smile had always been able calmed her, even in the foulest of moods. "I love the way you speak your mind, no matter what the circumstances." He leaned forward to press a kiss upon her brow. "I love the way you can always manage to stop for a good meal, even if danger is lurking near." His lips found one cheek. "I love the way you are so willing to throw yourself into harms way to help a friend." He paused, lips hovering over her other cheek, as a thought struck him. "Of course, for the sake of my sanity, I do hope you will allow myself and the other warriors to protect you in the future." She giggled softly as his lips finally finished their descent. He pulled back, studying her pensively, as he wiped away her tears. "I don't want a perfect little princess, Miaka. I want someone who will treat me more like a man and less like a celestial warrior or emperor. I want you—and only you." Her tears had stopped, though she was still plagued by an unattractive case of the sniffles, and her heart now fluttered.

Tamahome had never been quite so vocal.

"Hotohori..." she whispered softly. "I think I do love you." He opened his mouth to reply, but she silenced him with a finger against his lips. "I don't know when or how it happened, but you've managed to slip in through the back door of my heart."

"And Tamahome?"

She sighed sadly. "I still care for him very much, but those feelings have changed. After all that has happened these past few weeks, I can no longer see myself with him for the rest of my life."

His eyes glowed with hope. "Can you see yourself spending the rest of your life with me?"

Her heart swelled. Could she see herself spending the rest of her life with him? Did she wish to spend the rest of her days being loved and cherished and spoiled by his affections? Did she desire to settle down with her very own fairy-tale prince charming? Did she want to marry and start a family with her knight in shining armor?

"Yes."

His joy was apparent as he buried swooped down to claim her lips with his own, her fingers clutching at his robes like a lifeline as his hands worked their magic once more, making her cry out in passion, drowning her in desire. She trembled and moaned beneath him, and this time no thoughts of Tamahome interrupted her pleasure and destroyed the moment. This time she only urged him on, begging him not to stop when he hesitated. This time she knew it was more than base desire born of loneliness and heartache causing her to cling to the man who had always loved her.

She had almost made the mistake of killing herself earlier. If such a radical action was what had been needed to help her realize her true feelings, then she could not bring herself to regret it.

"I love you."


End file.
